


Camouflage

by hurricaneharmony



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricaneharmony/pseuds/hurricaneharmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>camouflage n.<b></b></b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>To hide or disguise the presence of a (person, animal, or object); conceal</p>
</blockquote><p>
With all his black leather, he could practically disappear into the couch.</p>
<p>
<i>On leather and wardrobe changes and learning that it's okay to shine.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Camouflage

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just posting fics from Tumblr onto here to get organized! I actually like this little fic a lot. It was so fun to write and made me smile like an idiot. Happy family fluff coming along!

With all his black leather, he could practically disappear into the couch. 

Emma had discovered during the first of many movie marathons at her new house that it was almost impossible to distinguish seat cushion from thigh, pillow from arm when he didn’t take off his jacket. She’d been groping along the sofa for the missing remote only to hear his startled squeak when it was _him_ that she was groping.   
  
(They sat on opposite ends of the couch that night without making eye contact, stuttering through an awkward goodbye and too-long kiss until he actually _leapt_ away and slammed the door on himself. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could have stayed and maintained his _good form_ while she’s on his mind in _that_ way.) _  
_

After an especially long night of Netflix, after Emma had fallen asleep on his shoulder and woken bleary-eyed and blushing, he’d forgotten his jacket on her couch,too flustered by her goodnight kiss and warmed by her arms to protest when she closed the door. 

With the Snow Queen lurking in their midst, the cold air bites at his ears, stiffens his hands, and he’d run to her door in the morning to retrieve his coat. 

( _Excuses, excuses;_ he imagines Liam whispering in his mind.) 

When she opened the door, it took only a second before she grabbed his collar and pulled him in, her lips already on his. His hand sneaked under her shirt to let the warmth of her skin seep into him, and she shivered but didn’t flinch away. He pulled away from her mouth to plant cool kisses down her neck, and of course they’d kissed before- but it’s never been quite like _this._

Henry was sleeping in later than usual. She walked him backwards through the kitchen, her lips hot and insistent on his, and he’s forgotten why he came here, forgotten about _good form,_ forgotten everything that they should be doing in this moment as her hands slide up his chest.They’re just stepping into the living room, he’s just about to set her down on the cushions and press her into them- when the couch screamed.   
As do they. 

Emma leapt out of his arms, a cut-off gasp stifled by her hand. Killian let out a yell, instinctively grabbing her shoulder. And then Henry appeared, rolling off of the cushions and onto the floor with a thud. He’s completely wrapped in Killian’s coat, like a five-foot-six burrito with a fifty- pound black leather tortilla or something, his head tucked under the collar and arms rolled tight to his side, a strange picture as the leather roll shakes and jackknifes and worms across the floor with laughter.   
“Y-your faces.” He gasped out between hysterical peals, “I didn’t think that would work.” 

Even now, after months of new clothes and fitting in, the leather coat will still be brought out of its home in her closet- on the floor, since it broke the rack and bent three wire coat hangers when they originally tried to hang it up- as a sort of sentimental joke. 

Henry uses it as a throw blanket while watching movies on the couch- likely to remind Killian and his mother about their _incident_ , as well. During the summer, it’s found a home in the trunk of Emma’s car as a heavy, expensive picnic blanket. It’s so ridiculously large that, spread out, it can easily seat the three of them, baby Neal, and all of their food. 

He doesn’t mind at all. It’s almost _funny_ to see the clothes that marked him a vicious pirate captain- the most ruthless of the seven seas- being used so _domestically._ There’s a eight-month old baby crawling up one sleeve, and Henry dabs sheepishly at a mustard stain on the embroidered lapel from where he dropped his sandwich. And the woman he loves is stretched out on it under the sun, her hair glowing as she props herself up on her elbows and beckons him closer with a soft, radiant smile. 

When he first bought those clothes, they were meant to make him blend in with the pirates, to make the honorable lieutenant disappear into a dark, ruthless villain. But now, as he picks up the baby before he can crawl away, settling him in his lap, as Emma reaches out to tenderly stroke her thumb across his cheekbone and Henry pretends not to watch, he could forget about three hundred years of learning to disappear. It’s like he’s _glowing_ after being in the dark for so long. Now, it’s like all she sees is him. 


End file.
